Smash the Dragon
by Gromulous
Summary: A challenge given to me by my guild to write Shatterer rule 34. I am simultaneously sorry, and not sorry at all for what will come of it. This first chapter is safe, though hints at the darker things to come.
1. Smash the Dragon

Smash the Dragon

It had been a month since the defeat of Mordremoth by Dragon's Watch, and, despite the continued presence of the other Elder Dragons looming on the horizon, all of Tyria celebrated. With two dragons slain, everyone was in high spirits, and a renewed influx of volunteers to join The Pact meant more people than ever were joining guilds to fight for their world's salvation. Bandits were pushed back to their iniquitous dens, the Sons of Svanir were sweating in their ice huts, and minions of the dragons everywhere were finding it more and more difficult to grab a foothold in the world at large. It was a time of triumph, a time of camaraderie, but, as an unfortunate number were fated to discover, a time for change as well.

Night fell over the Blazeridge Steppes as purple lightning cut jagged scars across the sky, burning after images in the eyes of those too inexperienced to avoid looking up. The thunder of the storm did not rumble so much as roar as it rolled across the plains. Locals began retreating to their homes for the night, aware of the violence soon to unfold within The Dragonbrand. For the past month since Mordremoth's defeat, The Shatterer, dragon minion of Kralkatorrik, had not appeared to terrorize the countryside. His nightly attacks were a strain upon the already burdened soldiers tasked with fighting off the creatures corrupted by the brand, and his sudden disappearance was a welcome relief, though the veterans among them could not shake the uneasy feeling that this was simply a brief respite, before its efforts were redoubled. But, as night after night, The Shatterer refused to appear, tensions eased, and guards were relaxed. So relaxed, that the Guild regularly tasked with containing The Shatterer's rampage, OHM, had begun to slack in their duties, sending only a token force to stand as an advance guard against his return, which seemed less and less likely.

It was on this fateful night, that lone guildmates Hkevin and Morgoth the Fallen, who had been assigned the duty as punishment, stood a bored and frivolous guard on The Dragonbrand's edge. With them, a skeleton crew of Sentinels and Vanguard gunners stood by, weapons some distance away, playing cards and draining drinks faster than the quartermasters could call for new kegs. Hkevin sat down beside Morgoth, who looked out over the scarred expanse in a half sleep.

"I go to one guild mixer without repping the guild," Hkevin complained, "and I get stuck pulling an all-night shift watching for a dragon that probably turned tail and ran once it heard we had slain yet another Elder Dragon."

Morgoth roused from his dreary contemplation of the color purple to snort at Hkevin's comment. He had been scarce at guild meetings and events lately, having found his true passion in competitive Crab Toss. Since he had neglected to officially resign from the guild, however, he had been tracked down and rather fiercely lectured to complete a backlog of guild services before his resignation would be official. This was to be his last duty and, though it seemed a cliche to him, being one day away from retirement had him in a talkative mood. "But don't you know, big guy?" He said to the Norn. "The Shatterer, terror that he is, may stalk the skies yet, waiting maliciously to rain down lightning, death, destruction and, worst of all... _purple crystals_ , upon our unsuspecting heads!" He delivered his warning with the melodrama the guild vanguard liked to sprinkle into their pre-battle warmup speeches, though his oration was heavily spiced with mocking sarcasm.

Hkevin snickered and turned to look out north, towards where the Dragonbrand had originated, and from where The Shatterer used to approach. "I mean, I was here a couple of times back when his attacks were regular, and even then, our guildmates led the kind of battle that left no room for chance. Once that dragon touched down, he stayed down." He shook his head."Now, though? I don't know what we were so afraid of. It's pretty obvious these dragons are intelligent enough to see when they're in trouble. The Shatterer may have been a little thick, but it looks like he finally got the message."

Morgoth nodded without saying anything. After a few minutes silence, he looked up at the darkening sky, and the growing storm. "Kinda weird though, weather hasn't been like this since Shatty's last attack. You don't think...?"

"Are you kidding? The advance scouts would have sent _someone_ back at even the slightest bit of movement from the crater. The Brand just fucked everything up here; weather included. Weather like this happened even when Shatterer wasn't around."

"You're probably right, but not a bad idea to ready the men, just in case."

Hkevin sighed and stood back up. "Alright, but they're not gonna like it, especially the sleeping ones." He moved to pick up his staff, when a shaking of the ground sent it clattering away.

He froze. Earthquakes weren't common in this part of Ascalon. With slowly dawning horror, he turned to Morgoth, who had drawn his sword and was searching the air frantically. Shaking ground meant a dragon should have touched down, but the stormy sky was empty of flying terrors. The other soldiers back at the camp had all drunkenly stumbled up into standing positions, attempting to get into their battle positions, manning the mortars and turrets. Morgoth turned to one of the soberer looking ones and yelled at him over the growing noise of grinding earth, "Hit the waypoint and get whoever you can from the nearest fortress! Now!"

The Vigil member gave a shaky salute and dashed off to the floating cube that would send him swiftly to the nearby garrison. Some of the men near him, misunderstanding his flight, turned to follow him, but a sharp order from their sergeant brought them to their senses, and preparations continued.

The rumbling had grown to an almost unbearable noise, and just as it reached its peak, a mighty crack shook to ground and sent mounds of it heaving in all directions. Everyone present was knocked to their feet by the shockwave, and some were pinned underneath rubble. Morgoth was one of the first to find his feet, and when he stood, he stared, dumbfounded at what had become of The Brand. There, in the crater, grew enormous, plantlike stalks, writhing and thrashing with life, but with a dry, dessicated look that made them seem like the roots of an enormous, dead weed.

"Impossible." He breathed. Mordremoth was dead, and even if he weren't his corruption had only struck the jungles of Maguuma, without any sign of it farther north that the Kessex Hills. Suddenly, a cold shock of fear and realization had him scanning the area for enemies. Those tendrils usually brought with them a sea of enemies, but when none were forthcoming, his began to cautiously approach, sword and shield at the ready. Behind him, Hkevin followed, his staff's tip lit with a prepared blast should trouble arrive.

"What do you think this is?" Asked Hkevin.

"Don't know," Morgoth replied, "but I don't need to be an Asura to know this is going to be serious trouble." He had approached to within 5 feet of one of the wriggling roots, and inspected it from what he judged to be a safe distance.

No doubt, these were the same jungle roots that had infested the western edges of the continent, but there were differences. These tendrils seemed to move with an order to them, first of all, as opposed to the wild undulations Mordremoth's minions usually exhibited. Secondly, even the largest of the roots did not bear flowers, as these did. Certainly, not flowers as vibrant as the purple ones that spotted the one before him.

 _Purple. Crystal. Flowers._ Morgoth noticed with dread. _Oh no._

"Hey, what a weird looking flower." Hkevin said, reaching out to pluck one from the root. Morgoth frantically reached to stop his companion, but it was too late. Hkevin snapped a crystal flower from the plants bark.

All at once, the ground beneath them exploded outward. Morgoth grabbed Hkevin and rolled backwards with him, away from the churning earth and raining debris. Once they were clear, they ran back to the rim of the crater, and stood, frozen in terror at what had burst up from the earth.

The Shatterer stood before them, but unlike anything they had ever seen before. The once disjointed wings, formed of crystals suspended by the power of the dragon were interwoven with branches, and its skin was a clashing mismatch of heavy bark and its stone carapace, creating a thick armored webbing where once weapons could slip through the armored crystals to disrupt the energy within the beast. Its eyes glowed with that same purple fury, coupled now with a green energy that seemed to spark and burst randomly. Where its claws tilled the earth, gnarled roots spread rapidly across the ground, paths of dirt rising from each step. But worst of all was the dragon's maw. Where once gaped a fanged abyss, now it also sported a forked tongue of wood, and dripped a viscous purple slime, which crystallized and broke the very plants growing underneath Shatterer even as they grew. It roared once, and the keening shriek set new waves of terror rolling through the men and women gathered before it. The Shatterer had returned, and more horrifying than ever.

"I think we're fucked." Morgoth spoke to the others, stating the painfully obvious.

End chapter 1


	2. The Unsmashable Dragon

The Unsmashable Dragon

Morgoth was stunned. It had been a full ten minutes since The Shatterer had burst forth from the earth, and despite the frantic, hurried response of the defenders, it seemed to largely ignore the mortar and turret fire that screamed through the air and burst futilely against its hardened carapace. Ground units attacked independently; magic flying and weapons swinging, but nothing seemed to pierce the dragon's armor.

"It's tougher than the scales of Tequatl," he mused to himself, feeling strangely detached from the assault. "Nothing we've got here has any chance of breaking its defenses. We need more firepower, and about five times this number." He turned to the waypoint, but there was no sign of the Vigil recruit he had sent for reinforcements. A shout from one of the nearby turret crews snapped him out of his reverie.

"We're running low on ammunition!" An engineer barked, pointing at a dwindling pile of mortar shells without looking up from calculating the arc for the mortar fire. "And so far, we haven't made so much of a scorch mark, no matter where we hit it!" The other crews were reporting similar deficiencies in both ammo and effectiveness. Morgoth turned from one reporting soldier to another, unsure of what course of action to take. The task would be easier if Shatterer were actually bothering to attack, or do anything! At least then defenses could be formed, or an unarmored point might be revealed, but instead it stood there infuriatingly still aside from turning its head to regard the attacking force.

Hkevin ran back from the frontline, out of breath, but otherwise uninjured. He took a few gulps of air as he reached Morgoth, and shook his head. "We've had gliders and rogues searching that thing from snout to tail, and we can't find any place that's taken damage, or seems vulnerable. But the damn dragon hasn't even bother to call down lightning. It's just standing there, and our ground crews have been in more danger from missed mortar shots than the dragon itself." He turned back around to the still form of The Shatterer. "What the hell is it doing?" He asked, and Morgoth had no answer for him. As alien as the dragons' minds were, this went beyond strange. The rules of the world were simple. Don't leave home without a weapon, never pull a Charr's tail, and elder dragons want to kill you. This was defying that final law, and yet, Morgoth was far from comforted by that fact. A thrumming from the Waypoint, though, helped ease his tension.

 _Reinforcements. About time._

Through the waypoint surged a wave of warriors and supply carts. Squads moved in unison to relieve the front lines, and more firing crews move new and more specialized turrets into place on the ridge. A small number of the troops broke off from the crowds and joined Morgoth, and he recognized a few of them, most comforting of all, Alcina Larron, the Psuedoscorpion. Someone with that much experience had to be more capable of finding a plan of attack for this new threat. As well, a few warriors bearing Morgoth's guild emblem were there as well. More soldiers well blooded on repelling the attacks of The Shatterer. He didn't recognize them, but introductions could wait. As quickly as he could, Morgoth gave a full report of what had transpired since the dragon had appeared, the others listening with grim, focused expressions, not interrupting except to ask short questions, clarifying the seeming invincibility of this new form.

"This is a whole hell of a lot more bodies than I expected to get." Morgoth admitted as Alcina drew closer. "And I certainly didn't count on new artillery, not that I'm complaining."

"Actually, these were coming here soon regardless." Alcina replied. "News from the Asuran researchers has warned us that with each death of an Elder Dragon, they others take on their magic, as well as adapting to some of the sphere of their influence. With that in mind, we figured it might not be a bad idea to beef up some of the usual routes of attack their minions like to use. We just didn't expect it to be on such a short time table. If you don't mind, I'll take command here. Better if your guild stuck together and worked as a specialized strike force, given its familiarity with the target."

Morgoth nodded gratefully at the chance to relinquish command. He was meant for fighting, not leading. He moved to join the rest of the reinforcements from his guild, who had begun to take up positions for reconnaissance of the fight, until a plan could be formulated. He spoke to a Charr close to the back of the formation.

"Surprised none of the Vanguard or guild leader showed up. New dragon means we could really use them here." He stuck out a hand. "Morgoth, by the way."

"Mustard Tiger," The Charr replied. "And I'm afraid this is all we're going to get from the guild for right now. Half the Vanguard is deep in the Maguuma jungle, and it'd take too long for any messengers we sent to find them. The leader and the others took the rest of them as well as a few of the higher ranked members to instruct them on combatting enemies in the Spirit Vale, so they're not really available either."

"Great. Well at least we've got better number now. Must be over a hundred out there now. No way that much focused firepower can be ignored."

And Morgoth seemed to be right. Ballista and acid lobbers joined the mortars and turrets, and the air filled quickly with the arcs of renewed fire. Acid melted slowly away at the tougher parts of The Shatterer's carapace, and the high-powered piercing ammunition found purchase on its hide, though for now, the damage still seemed superficial. A cheer went up as the dragon seemed to feel this renewed assault, and it folded its wings over the front of it, protecting its chest and face.

"We've got it on the defensive now!" Alcina called from the position overlooking the battle. "All available squads, move into close range, and focus fire on the joint where wing meets torso! Let's ground this bastard!" And with a mighty roar, the combatants moved in, firing away at the designate targets.

 _Finally._ A voice in Morgoth's head sounded, and a faint smile crept across his face as his impatience washed away. He charged forward with the members of his guild, circling around the back to get a clear shot at its wings. _Finally._ The voice sounded again, and this time he faltered in his steps.

That voice didn't belong to him.

A sudden rumbling behind him and the rest of the soldiers caused the charging line to shake, stall, and then fall apart. Some were knocked prone by the renewed shaking of the earth, while other found it hard to continue moving over the shifting plane, and stumbled into one another.

Before any call for retreat could be made, a shower of dirt and rock from the upper ridge struck them, as more roots and vines, grasping and writhing, towering over the others that had initially sprouted, struck the turret emplacements from underneath. Crew and machines alike were entangled and hoisted them high into the air, turning worked metal to scrap, and trained flesh to paste. Still more vine grew from the ridge, and interwove with each other, forming high, impassible barriers, cutting off all retreat, as well as any further reinforcements from the waypoint.

The ground units looked around fearfully, realizing too late what had occurred. The dragon had not been standing idly all that time, but had instead been slowly working more of its growth beneath the soil, laying it out wide in a trap. As the corrupted plant life continued to grow, the trapped legions broke and scattered, seeking to escape the confines of this jungle formed of dead branches and crystalline flowers. Those nearest the edges reached the foot of those massive vines in time to begin squeezing through the narrowing openings, only to become trapped, and ground into bloodied chunks as those only a few seconds slower watched on in horror.

Up and up those tendrils grew, blocking out the already dim and purple light of the sky, until they enclosed the crater entirely. Darkness shrouded Morgoth and the other hundred odd soldiers trapped with him, until a faint purple light began to shine from the various purple flowers sprouting on the wooden walls. Dim, shadowy illumination washed over them, giving all those present a sickly look to them, though that may have also been the fear draining their faces of color. A deafening rush of wind, like a sigh or snort made monolithic sounded from the darkness ahead of him, and he looked on in horror as The Shatterer's dripping maw appeared from the shadows, only partially lit by the light of its own growths.

 _Finally._ The voice sounded a third time, buzzing throughout his entire skull, feeling as if it meant to shake his teeth loose. Judging from the looks on his allies' faces, they all felt the same voice in their heads, and the implication of that terrified him.

 _I have waited weeks for the necessary numbers to arrive, only for you mortals to relax your guard as soon as I relented for a short while. I have grown impatient, worms, and so I have been forced to take action and draw you out of your hovels._ The Shatterer's massive head leaned low, bringing its lower jaw level with the heads of most of the defenders. The voice was its voice, there was no mistaking that, and a low cry of terror passed through the assembled troops.

 _Twice now!_ The voice roared. _Twice you have slain Elders on par in power with my master. You insignificant creatures, incapable of wielding even an ounce of the power they command, have committed the ultimate offense, and slain your obvious superiors. Well, no longer._ The dragon's gaping mouth opened wider, and if such monsters were capable of expressing joy, Morgoth would have sword it was a smile.

 _Kralkatorrik has taken on a portion of the Jungle Dragons sphere, and thus has gained even greater wisdom along with an expanded mind. He has made his desires known to me, and what it is I must do here now. I must not_ slay _you lowly bugs. I must study you. We must understand you, and your feeble minds, as one attempts to understand the motivations of a termite. And to do that, I shall experiment with you. I shall test your limit. And, as it is meant to be…_

I shall break you all.

 _Oh yeah._ Morgoth thought, his last coherent one before fear overtook him completely.

 _We're definitely fucked._


	3. The Dragon Smashes

The Dragon Smashes

The first thing Alcina Larron noticed as he regained consciousness was the unnatural silence of The Brand. There were no mortars firing, no battles cries, and certainly no sounds of a dragon. Instead, there was a dull ringing, as if a pipe had been struck hours ago in some cavernous space, to echo endlessly off the walls.

The second thing he noticed, was a searing pain in his side, sharper than any wound he had suffered in the past. With a groan, he opened his eyes and looked down, mentally forcing himself to focus. There was a length of crystal, perhaps a foot long, embedded in his stomach, though luckily not on the side with his liver. Blood had soaked through the jerkin under his armor, and a small pool of it was gathering underneath him. Steeling his focus, he consciously tightened the muscles around the wound, restricting blood flow, and holding the shard in place. It hurt like hell, but better to be in pain and dying slowly than dying quicker for the sake of comfort. He groped around him for any kind of dressing, and found nothing but recently churned earth. Gritting his teeth, he eased his way back into a prone position, and called for a medic.

A few minutes passed, and as it became more obvious no response was coming, he once again steeled himself for the agony of movement. Slowly, unsteadily, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, pausing only to take a deep, steadying breath before rising the rest of the way to stand on weakened legs. The torture of the ordeal was immense, but as he stood, he felt somehow stronger too, as if simply being upright was tricking his mind into believing the damage was less severe.

 _Got to remember to check myself for a medkit next time. Can't get by on being lucky forever._ He chastised himself.

The third thing he noticed cut short his self-recrimination, and nearly caused him to drop to his knees in alarm. The enormous dome of crystal and plant matter, rising some 200 meters high, and just as wide across the center, dominated to remains of the battlefield. It seemed to pulse and writhe with a life all its own, and bodies dotted the landscape around its edges. Whatever attempts that had been made to breach it by the few survivors of the dragon's attack had obviously ended in vain. Looking around, Alcina saw more destruction along the ridges, where large spires of vine and thorn had chewed up the edges of The Brand. No cannon crews remained, no mortars or turrets had stayed whole, and what little movement there was, either the throes of the dying, or the feasting of carrion beasts, filled Alcina with a sense of urgency.

 _Need to warn Lion's Arch._ He told himself, limping towards the waypoint, which, as always, seemed untouched by the destruction surrounding it. _Have to report what happened, have to get help!_ He hobbled along, the wound in his side sending waves of agony with each step, but after what felt like an hour of fighting his own legs, he reached the waypoint. With a single look back to the dome, he spoke quickly before touching its surface and departing.

"Whoever's in there; survive. Help is coming. I promise."

Laughter rang out in the dome. Loud, mocking, and confident, it echoed in the massive space and drew every eye to a small Asura, who stood strong and, after everyone in his immediate presence had vacated the area, alone. The Shatterer lazily turned its head towards the sound, its eyes having only a moment's challenge in finding the diminutive figure.

"Break us?" Alyxxa Rin asked the monster incredulously. "You want to break us? Obviously, you don't know the first thing about us 'mere mortals'. We've been fighting your kind since they first woke. We've lost whole islands, coasts, and swaths of the continent to your master and his cohorts. No matter how hard you hit. No matter how many we lose, have we ever stopped?" He asked the dragon, crossing his arms. "No, because we don't break. Doesn't matter how hard you come to kill us. Just means we're going to come to kill you back even harder."

A ragged cheer came out from a fair number of the pact members within the crowd, the Asuran's defiant speech helping them to withstand the terror they faced. Maybe they didn't have a chance of surviving this trap, but they'd be damned if they were going to let The Shatterer take this as a victory.

The Shatterer simply stared at Alyxxa as the defiant cry was taken up by the rest of the trapped warriors. It stared as the masses surged forward, eager to show just how ready they were to die throwing insults and weapon fire straight into its face. Then, as it continued to stare, Alyxxa was suddenly seized by vines emerging from the dirt around him. With a strangled cry, he struggled as they gripped each of his limbs and his throat tightly, so tight that it felt he might dislocate his arms and legs were he to thrash too hard. The rest of the attacking forced stopped, transfixed in horror as the Shatterer's roots lifted Alyxxa up to eye level with the dragon's fanged tooth maw.

 _Yes, we have learned that your mortality has actually_ lessened _your collective fear of destruction._ Its voice sounded in everyone's mind, though from the moan of pain coming from the airborne Asura, it seemed that the voice was no unbearable to Alyxxa. _You readily hurl yourselves into certain death, if it can gain your kind even one second of life, one inch of ground retaken. It has been…frustrating._

A sudden cracking sound echoed throughout the now silent dome, and Morgoth realized with sickened horror that what he had just heard was the sound of Alyxxa's, his guildmate's, arms and legs being slowly dislocated as the vines applied increasingly powerful pull on him.

 _But as I said, we no longer seek to simply destroy you. It has proven too inefficient to rely upon. Miss a few, and they breed and fester again like fungus, spreading and infesting the world which belongs to us._

A sudden scream of agony split the air as with a sickening crack of bone and tearing of flesh, Alyxxa was ripped asunder by the forces acting upon his extremities. Those gathered below him were showered in gore and bone fragments, as the vines proceeded to crush and let fall what remains they still gripped. Shatterer turned its head to look at the rest of them.

 _As enjoyable as it would be to do that to all of you worms, that would ill serve my purpose here. I must find a way to break not your fragile bodies, but your minds. And I have a simple plan for that. Death does not deter you maggots. Pain will not dissuade you scum. Fear cannot hold long in your empty minds. And nothing else seems to hold strong enough sway in your minds to leave a lasting effect. Except for one simple emotion. One that we have long since overlooked in pursuit of our glorious purpose._

 _Pleasure._ The dragon's mental voice to seemed to purr.

"…what?" HKevin asked after a moments pause, the confusion in his voice mirrored on his face, as well as the faces of those around him.

 _Oh yes. We have observed you in your private moments, and discovered that you are all capable of being almost entirely incapacitated with joy. Your drinking and debauchery proves how effective simple physical pleasures can make even the fiercest of you into weak-willed children. And most effective of these pleasures is…_ The Shatterer seemed to mentally shudder, _carnal pleasures. Your procreative efforts, taken recreationally or otherwise. This has been the height of your pleasure that we have seen, and the act of it seems to remove all focus or motivation from you, aside from in the pursuit of more of the same. I seek to discover if we can use this to our benefit._

Morgoth stood slack-jawed. This had to be a nightmare. No way was a dragon talking to them about something as absurd, as unreal, as this. Looking around, it seemed that his fellow guildmates were having the same, incredulous thoughts.

"Do you…do you mean you intend to _rape_ us into submission?" He asked before he could stop himself, the strangeness of the whole situation momentarily interrupting his control over his mouth.

 _I do not know what this word "rape" means._ The dragon answered. _But it is good that you already have a word for it. It means there is a…precedence. But still I sense fear. Do not panic so, this is, after all, what so many of you seek so desperately; a chance for release. Already, the plants I have sprouted here have been releasing spores laced with my master's corrupting crystals, making your bodies more…pliable to my ministrations. Soon, with a small bit of effort, you will be begging me to experiment upon you._

Morgoth realized with dawning horror that what the dragon had been saying was true. Suddenly all too aware of himself, he found that his member was already standing at attention, and the awkward movements of his companions proved that they were feeling the effects too. Creeping thought of lust and desire crept into his mind as he looked at the bodies of the women in his company, and he shook his head, trying to rid his mind of such unwelcome thoughts.

 _Ah, but of course, I cannot have all of you simply sating yourselves or each other, as that hardly fulfills the needs of this experiment. So…_ At this, The Shatterer slammed a claw into the earth below, and without warning, even more writhing vines sprouted, swiftly capturing a huge number of the forces within the dome, binding them into strange positions. What few escaped, Morgoth realized quickly, were all Sylvari, who seemed to huddle together as their allies were captured.

The Shatterer lowered its head down to the level of the few untethered Sylvari. _Unfortunately, the great Mordremoth did not see fit to give his spawn any working genitalia, and your pleasures are both less powerful, and less effective. That being the case, a separate study is needed to determine how to increase the effectiveness of his domination, but for now, you shall serve as excess material for my growths. Feed my plants well, saplings._ And with a few quick swipes of its forward claws, The Shatterer smeared the remains of the Sylvari captives across the ground, catching even the quicker ones with its follow up rakes, and ground their corpses into the dirt to serve as nutrients for his powers.

Morgoth struggled vainly against the tendrils holding him in place, but try as he might, he could find as much as an inch of leeway in any direction. As the dragon turned its attention back up to its subjects, he struggled all the fiercer, dreading what was to come.

 _Now, as I recall, this is best done if you are all disrobed. That you need to wear such protection alone already proves what a mistake you all are upon this world._ As its voice sounded in their heads, the vines gripping them all began to sprout even further, growing small branches that burrowed under armor and cloth, invading every nook and cranny. The sensation was strange but, the Morgoth's horror, not unpleasant.

 _Shit, I'm enjoying this?_ He tried to shake loose the vines, only serving to find them rubbing against him in a way that sent a wave of tingling pleasure throughout his body. With a strong expenditure of will, he forced himself to hold still as the plants covered his body. Elsewhere in the dark, he heard the voices of those who had struggled too hard against their bonds, or at least succumbed to quickly to the corruptive spores. Their grunts of effort and discomfort turned into moans of satisfaction, and he did his best to shut out the voices before they swayed him to join in.

A sudden pressure covered his body, and with sounds like whip cracks, the vines snapped the leather straps holding his armor together, and it fell worthlessly to the ground beneath him. Around him, the same sound fired off in staccato, accompanied with the sound of cloth tearing robes and underclothes were also violently removed. Looking down, Morgoth saw his cock standing straight out, the full 7 inches as hard as they've ever been. Fighting a losing battle with himself, he looked around, and saw the rest of his party in similar states, the men all in varying degrees of hardness, and the women already breathing hard, nipples erect and legs shaking. Though he was unfamiliar with Charr sexual organs, it seemed they too were having a difficult time maintaining control over the desires being artificially aroused within them.

 _Disgusting._ The Shatterer's voice interrupted his ogling of the nude forms around him. _Such a vulgar manner of recreation could only produce specimens as pathetic as you mortals. Though I admit to a small morbid curiosity towards seeing this process on a closer tableau. Like those curious about the mating rituals of gnats. I comprehend the theory behind this, but perhaps a simple demonstration would act as a proper visual aid._ Its eyes scanned the masses before it, and lighted upon two figures, and male norn and female human who both seemed too far gone in their own enjoyment to notice what was going on around them.

Like plucking two ripe fruit from a grove, The Shatterer's vines dropped extended to a point directly before the dragon, and dropped them both to the ground. Shaken from their feelings of lust by the sudden sensation of gravity, the two looked up and up at the towering figure above them.

 _My first experiment is simple. You two shall mate, and I shall observe. If you refuse, I shall tear you both in half and choose again._

The two looked nervously at each other, not wishing to give into its demands, but also obviously feeling the effects of the spores. Their folly has been in looking to each other instead of staying focused on the dragon. As the norn's eyes alighted on his "partners" small but firm breasts, and full lips, he found himself thinking that a death after such satisfaction was better than dying in unanswered anticipation. Simultaneously, the human woman's eyes fell upon the first norn member she had ever seen. She had lain with gifted human men before, but none of them compared to the length and girth of a norn. Almost in spite of themselves, the two moved together, and as they laid hands upon each other, the remaining captives watched on in varying degrees of despair and arousal. The Shatterer, for its part, watched in what seemed to be bored, if also somewhat disgusted, curiosity.

Almost immediately upon reaching one another, the woman fell to her knees, her desire to try her capacity against such a massive cock overtaking her. She needed this dick good and wet before she even tried mounting it, and began licking it up and down the shaft with fervor, unable to so much as fit the head of it more than a few inches into her mouth. As she got down to work, the norn reached down and fondled her breasts, tweaking her nipples and pulling gently on them, eliciting moans from her that sent pleasurable vibrations down his cock.

 _Is….is she attempting to consume his penis?_ The Shatterer asked in confusion, its first real emotion aside from contempt and superiority since the ordeal had begun. _And why is he so roughly handling her teats? I had come to understand they only served the purpose of nursing the young._

Morgoth wrenched his eyes from the spectacle to look at the dragon in honest amazement. It was asking questions that a child would ask had he stumbled upon his parents during sex. It would be hilarious were the situation no so dire. Thinking clearly for a moment, he decided not to answer the questions, as he did not want more attention focused upon him than necessary.

Unperturbed, the pair on the ground continued to explore one another, the woman working his cock up and down slowly, using both hands to reach to whole way around. Meanwhile, the norn had slowly bent over and reached down to her wet mound, running two, large fingers around the edges, teasing her lips and clit with them, drawing louder moans. The two were already barely holding back their need for the other, and as this display went on, it seemed to reach a head, and the norn wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her, bring her head to his chest, and positioning his now slick cock at the opening of her dripping slit.

Movement in the vines around him drew Morgoth's attention away from them again, and he saw new vine growths appearing in front of each of the captives. The women had roughly rounded roots snaking their way up their legs, gently caressing ankle, calf, and thigh as they slowly wended their way up to their nether regions. Most of their gasped or shrieked at the first touch, but as they climbed higher and higher, the nervousness melted into mewling sighs and gasps of more pleasure than surprise. None had been penetrated yet, but Morgoth could see their wills crumbling before the firm roots that had planted themselves on their lower halves. Most had gone slack against the vines holding them, submitting with hopelessness against the coming invasion. Some seemed too lost in pleasure to put up even a token resistance, quivering with muscles tightening as they found themselves lost in pleasures than no human hand could give them. And other stills seemed all too eager for the vines to take them, bucking against them, as if trying to force them in all the sooner.

Meanwhile, before Morgoth, a vine had rapidly grown an oblong, purple fruit, which positioned itself directly in front of his dick. Similar vegetation was being positioned cock height in front of all the other men, and as he looked at the fruit in confusion, another vine lashed out from somewhere below and sliced the fruit in half, revealing a moist, fleshy interior. Slowly, the fruit vine moved forward, dripping cold, shocking juice on his cock, which the soft rind of the fruit began the rub up and down along him. He tried to resist, but the sensation was too much to bear, and he soon found he could not pull away. After only a few moments of this, the fruit moved its opening to the head of his dick.

Looking down, Morgoth saw that the norn and the human had begun fucking in earnest, wild, almost feral thrusts of his cock were met with fervent bounces of the human's hips. Her cries rose high and unfettered in the dim enclosure, and she seemed to be oblivious to the bleeding and tearing his massive member had caused her, instead hungrily forcing him deeper and deeper inside of her as if she needed it to live. A wet, warm sensation at the head of his cock drew Morgoth's attention to his own predicament, and he threw his head back with a long, drawn out groan as the fruit began inserting him into itself. The flesh of the fruit felt somehow better than any woman he had ever been with, and it stayed wet and tight as it worked its way back and forth along his shaft.

 _I am fucking a plant….and liking it. What the fuck?_ A small, now ignored voice in the back of his head noticed. All around the dome, cries of pleasure grew louder and louder, and men fucked fruit, and vines fucked women. He tried to maintain focus, to keep control of his thoughts, but soon, everything was drowned out in a sea of orgasms, turned rough with waves of pleasure, unendingly pumping him.

Above them, The Shatterer watched on as the first of them began to reach climax. The vines and fruits would not stop. After all, it needed to test the limits of their endurance for this. If there was a point where they could be drained of energy or simply devolve into instinctual desires, then the dragon would find it. Still, as it listened to the sickening cries of joy coming from the pathetic creatures around it, it thought to itself.

 _Hmm, perhaps this was a little too easy._


End file.
